The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends

by Kayley Loring

  “Mom! I gotta go! I have to make some work calls, and you guys have to leave for work soon, right?”

  “Hey!” my dad says. “You be good to that guy, okay?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You think I don’t know a guy who’s crazy in love when I see one?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, the way he was looking at you, Roxanne,” my mother coos. “Didn’t you see?”

  “He’s just pretending. We’re pretending. Sometimes.”

  “I know faces. I know what the face of a man in love looks like,” he says, and then he points to his own face. “It looks like this.” He plants a quick kiss on my mother’s cheek, making her squeal again and making the camera sway again, making me dizzy again, and then the Skype window closes.

  As soon as I close that app, I see that I have a bunch of texts from Aimee, Bernadette, and Nina on our Girlfriends Group text, but I quickly realize that Aimee accidentally used the wrong group. She clearly meant to send Nina a message in their mommy group that I’m not a part of.

  AIMEE: NINA! YOU. WILL. NOT. BELIEVE!!! K and R. It’s a thing. It’s happening.

  NINA: STOP IT!!! Please tell me you’re talking about Keaton and Roxy.

  BERNADETTE: ROXTON is ON!!!

  AIMEE: Do NOT let Roxy know that I told you because she’s still being all weird about it—also don’t let Chase know. Or Keaton. Better not tell Vince. Or Joni. In case our kids secretly text each other without our knowledge.

  NINA: Got it. Dish!

  AIMEE: They totally did it a couple of nights ago. Maybe last night too. Who knows probably. They’re so cute, like seriously WTF, but I think it might actually work.

  BERNADETTE: #ROXTON4EVA

  NINA: Dying. So happy for them. Cannot believe I’m missing this, but I guess if we were there, then K and R wouldn’t be, so yay for us!

  ME: Hey guys. Wrong group text, but thanks for the support.

  AIMEE:

  BERNADETTE: Busted!

  NINA: Oh fudge me! Switching channels, sorry Rox. But you know…GET IT, GIRL! Xoxo

  I put my phone to sleep and try to watch Keaton through the windows of the glass doors, but mostly I see my own reflection in them, and I’m shocked—shocked—to see the well-rested and relaxed face smiling back at me.

  I open the doors and sit down in one of the Adirondack chairs, looking out at the view but listening to Keaton talk on the phone. It sounds like he’s talking to one of his business partners about some investment opportunity. God, I love to hear him talk business. He’s so confident and knowledgeable and authoritative. It’s hot.

  I close my eyes and let my head roll back as I remember the way he let me touch him last night and the way he finally took control. The way he took control the night before. The way he keeps surprising me and challenging me and then giving me space when I need it. I’ve never been with a guy like that before. Oh God, the way he kissed me all over…

  “Yeah. It was good, wasn’t it?” he says, startling me.

  I open my eyes and look up to find him grinning down at me.

  “I was just listening to the waves.”

  “Were you? Because I was remembering what it felt like to have your hand on my—”

  “Okay, okay. I need to start making some calls and dealing with things.”

  “Work stuff?”

  “Work stuff.” I look at my phone. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Everything okay there?”

  “Where?”

  “Work. Is everything okay at work?” He takes a seat on the daybed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, and I can’t stop staring at his forearms and hands and he knows it.

  “Mostly.”

  “You sure?”

  “I am a very competent and successful executive, you know.”

  “I do know that. You’re the Senior Manager for Customer Relationship Management and Loyalty for the third largest online clothing store in America. So why are you putting up with shit from an employee?”

  “You heard that?”

  “Bits and pieces yesterday. Let me guess. You have a male employee who reports directly to you, but he went over your head for something and talked to your male boss about a matter that he should have come to you for.”

  “Yeah. He’s done it twice now. I hired him four months ago.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Can you please tell me how you plan to handle it?”

  “You don’t think I can handle it?”

  “I think you can handle anything. I would just like to offer my perspective on the situation if you’ll let me. As a friend. Who happens to know and work with a lot of guys who have a problem with female superiors.”

  “Fine. This employee. We’ll call him Bryce. Came highly recommended and he knows my superior—we’ll call him Ansel—socially. He is perfectly good at his job, except for the part where he’s supposed to respect my decisions. Twice now, he has disagreed with my strategy for a large-scale CRM program based on my data analysis of our performance metrics. When he brought it to my attention the first time, I thanked him for his opinion and told him I had made my decision and I had already presented it to the marketing department. He then went to Ansel privately to pitch him an alternative strategy. I only know this because Ansel mentioned in passing at lunch one day that Bryce had done this and that he didn’t agree with him, but he did like the way he pitched it. On Friday, my assistant heard from Ansel’s assistant that Bryce did it again, only he didn’t bother to discuss it with me first because I was out of the office.”

  “And?”

  “And I haven’t heard from Ansel yet because of the weekend. Or possibly because he just doesn’t plan on telling me.”

  “And what do you plan to do about Bryce?”

  “I’m going to tell him I know what he did, that I appreciate feedback from my team, and I welcome anyone to challenge my tactics while we’re at the development stage, but if he has a problem with my strategies, he needs to discuss it with me first.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s it. Believe it or not, I don’t mouth off to people at work.”

  “Glad to hear it. Would you permit me to share my advice on another way to deal with it?”

  “Yes. Fine. Tell me.”

  “You don’t talk to Bryce first. You go to Ansel. You ask him to help you reinforce the chain of command. Use that phrase exactly. Maybe Ansel thought he was taking something off your plate by not bringing it up with you when it happened or by not telling Bryce it was inappropriate to go over your head. But you need Ansel to have your back and you want to make sure things work out with Bryce going forward. Say that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then you talk to Bryce. You tell him you know what he did and you ask him point blank why he didn’t feel comfortable with your strategy or with coming to talk to you first. Just ask him why—don’t put him on the defensive; don’t be defensive. Thank him for his initiative and passion for the work and clarify your expectation for him to report to you directly about everything, regardless of his social relationship with Ansel. Ask him what you can do to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Tell him what will happen if it happens again.”

  “I’ll fire him.”

  “You fucking better. I’d fire him now, but I can be a dick like that.”

  “I’d like to think it’s just a misunderstanding about protocol.”

  “I’d love to think that, but I’d put money on Bryce being a dick who wants your job.”

  “Yeah, well. That’s some easy money right there.” I shift around in my chair. I’d put money on me having Wet Panty Face right now, and that is very inconvenient because I really have to make some calls and I can’t do that if Keaton’s mouth is on my lady parts. Can I? “Okay. Thank you. For the advice.”

  “Any time. Literally.” He looks at me,
so seriously I can barely stand it. “I’m here for you, you know?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.” He stands up. “You gonna make your calls out here or in there or what? You want me around or no?”

  “I mean…” I think about it for a second. “Yeah. You can be around. Sure. If you promise not to hop on the call and tell my boss you’re my boyfriend.”

  “I’ll try to refrain from interrupting your business calls, but I can’t promise I won’t shout it from the rooftops at some point.”

  I giggle.

  Goddammit. He made me giggle again.

  This guy.

  I remember what my dad said and study his face and the way he’s looking at me, and I guess it’s so much easier to recognize a man who’s crazy in love when he’s looking at someone else, but whatever it is that Keaton is feeling, the way he’s looking at me makes me feel better than I’ve felt in years. Or maybe ever.

  17

  Keaton

  We’re headed down the path for Game Night in the lobby, and I wait until Matt and Bernie and Chase and Aimee have entered the cottage before pulling Roxy back around a corner and surprising her with a kiss. She smells incredible and she looks so beautiful in a white dress with her golden skin, and I have earned this after helping her with her asshole employee situation. I have earned this after a day of not touching her while we lay out by the pool and on the beach, and also I just want to kiss her because I’ve been thinking about it all day.

  Yeah, there’s a word for what I was feeling, and it’s German.

  Vorfreude. The joyful anticipation of imagining something pleasurable or desired in the future.

  I never would have anticipated feeling that way about this woman when I met her or for the many years since then. But goddammit, her response is even better than I imagined today. When I pull her toward me, one hand on her waist, one behind her neck, she reaches for my face and gives me one long kiss on the lips and then ten kisses all over my face like someone who’s greeting a person she’s been missing for a long time. Then she gives me one last quick kiss on the lips and walks away from me, going inside to join the others while I stand here wondering how it’s possible that we haven’t been in love with each other our whole lives.

  I’m falling.

  I’m falling hard and fast, and for now I don’t even care if I’m heading down that path alone.

  “Who is your man’s favorite singer or band?” the resort manager asks.

  Tonight, we’re playing the Newlywed Game. When Roxy found out, she widened her eyes at me and whispered that maybe we should sit this one out. I assured her that it will be entertaining and she can just have fun with it if she doesn’t know the answers. The six of us are all seated at the front of the room, guys on one side, ladies on the other, with half a dozen other couples and various resort employees sitting around watching us. We’re all pretty much expecting Don and Debbie to win again, but you never know.

  “We begin with an easy one,” he says, winking at the ladies as he plays about ten seconds of some bouncy song from Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass on his phone.

  I write down the name of my favorite musical artist on the little dry erase board and hold it so that no one can see it.

  “Led Zeppelin!” Bernie yells out, barely even waiting for Matt to write the words down. He turns around his dry erase board, which says Led.

  “One point for Matt and Bernadette!” the manager says and gives them a point on his scoreboard.

  I thought Matt’s favorite band was AC/DC, so I guess I’m a bad girlfriend.

  Aimee smiles at her husband and says, “Chris Cornell.”

  Chase holds up his dry erase board, which has the words Chris Cornell scribbled on it, along with a vague doodle of a guy with long hair and a little facial scruff, and it basically looks like he did a self-portrait.

  “One point for Chase and Aimee!”

  That one I did know. I’m a good girlfriend to Chase.

  I finally make eye contact with Roxy, who looks very unsure of herself, and I’m expecting her to say something like Shakira or Air Supply, but she kind of hums and then says, “Jay-Z?”

  I smile and wink at her, flipping the board around.

  She looks so happy that she got it right, it warms my heart.

  “And one point for Keaton and Roxy! We are off to a good start tonight, ladies and gentlemen!” This manager guy really needs his own game show. “Second question, also easy. Ladies. What is your man’s favorite alcoholic beverage?”

  I write mine down and look up at Roxy, grinning. We haven’t had many drinks with each other, but we’ve done a fair amount of drinking around each other over the years.

  Bernie and Aimee easily score another point each with “gross expensive Scotch” and “Redbreast Irish whiskey.”

  Roxy declares confidently, “Gin and tonic.”

  “Close,” I say as I turn my board around and reveal that an Old Fashioned is in fact my favorite.

  “Really?” she says, disbelieving. Like I’d lie about that just to mess with her. She looks over at Aimee and mouths, Did you know that?

  Aimee nods and whispers, “He drinks G&T when he needs to cheer up.”

  “Ahhh, new love,” the manager says. “Still so much to learn about each other. An exciting time, not to worry. No point for you, though! Next question!”

  Roxy blushes and exchanges a look with Aimee, not me. I catch Chase giving me the side-eye and give him an air kiss. My cock will not be blocked, and neither will my heart.

  “This is a fun one, ladies! Which Disney princess is your man most attracted to?”

  I don’t have to think twice about that one, but Matt and Chase are making a big show of thinking it through.

  “First to you, Lady Bernadette.”

  Bernie rolls her eyes. “He’ll say it’s Moana, but it’s really Ariel.”

  Matt flips his board around to reveal that he did, in fact, write down Moana. “It’s Moana, and you can’t prove otherwise.”

  “Oh yes, I can,” she mutters. “But not here.”

  Aimee narrows her eyes at Chase. “He’ll say Pocahontas, but it’s really Ariel.”

  Chase holds his answer up—Pocahontas, but she thinks it’s the Little Mermaid. “Innocent until proven guilty, babe.”

  “I know what I know, babe.”

  “Points for Bernadette’s and Aimee’s teams! What does Roxy say?”

  “Roxy says it’s the Little Mermaid and he has no reason to lie about it.” She shrugs. “I’d do her.”

  I do not need the image of Roxy doin’ the Little Mermaid in my head right now, but I fully expect to get a slap-down as soon as she sees my answer.

  “Princess Leia?” she snaps. “She’s not a Disney princess!”

  “Disney now owns the franchise. And she is a princess.”

  “No point for Roxy’s team!”

  “Am I allowed to change my answer?” Matt asks.

  “Me too,” Chase says.

  Roxy’s eyes are ablaze, but not with anger. She likes my answer. I bet she’d do Princess Leia too.

  “Next question!” The manager turns on the Herb Alpert song again. “What movie is guaranteed to make your man cry?”

  I swear, all three of us are tearing up just thinking about our answers.

  “Marley and Me,” Bernie says, pouting, and she’s right.

  Aimee correctly guesses “E.T.”

  Roxy says, “Pretty Woman” with a definitive nod, because she would have no idea and she expects to guess wrong anyway at this point.

  Toy Story 3 is what I wrote down, but Roxy will probably say Pretty Woman.

  It gets a laugh from everyone, including Roxy, whose expression also conveys disbelief and fondness and just the right amount of lust for the occasion.

  “Do we get anything for that?” she asks the manager.

  “Half a point for Roxy’s team!”

  She comes over to high-five me. “We’re half right!”

&n
bsp; “We’re all right,” I say under my breath. “You just don’t know it yet.”

  That gets me a confused look when she sits back down.

  “Final question for the ladies, and then we switch over! This one is multiple choice. What does your man irrationally fear the most? One, sharks. Two, ghosts. Three, intimacy. Four, fill in the blank.”

  Everyone knows that Matt has a fear of sharks because he grew up surfing, although I’m pretty sure he’s more afraid of belly fat.

  Aimee reveals that Chase is irrationally afraid someone will shave off his beautiful wavy hair while he’s sleeping. At a certain time in our lives, I’m pretty sure that someone was me, and I’ll be honest, I did consider it when we were in college. But look how far we’ve come.

  “And back to you, Miss Roxy,” the manager says with a wink. I’m starting to think he has a thing for her. “What is Mr. Keaton irrationally afraid of?”

  “Socks,” she says.

  I have to laugh at that as I flip my board around.

  “Really?” Roxy is skeptical. “Really? You are afraid of ghosts?”

  “Well, technically I’ve been afraid of being haunted by a demon ever since I saw Paranormal Activity.”

  “No point for Roxy and Keaton! Gentlemen! Give your dry erase boards to your ladies, please!”

  I get up to hand the dry erase board, eraser, and pen to Roxy. As she takes them in her hands, she slowly leans in, and I wait for her to kiss my cheek, but she says, “Boo!” and then sits back in her chair, grinning.

  You don’t scare me, Roxy Carter.

  “Gentlemen!” the manager says. “Let’s see how well you know your women! Easy questions first again. Tell us her favorite singer or band!” He plays that ridiculous Herb Alpert song again, but it doesn’t bother me.

  I don’t need another second to come up with the answer.

  Roxy finishes writing, pops the cap back on the pen, and arches an eyebrow at me, grinning.

  I am surprised to learn that Bernie’s favorite singer is Patti Smith, but Matt knew.

  Chase reluctantly admits that his wife’s favorite band is The Chainsmokers, and this is basically the biggest conflict in their relationship.